Mesure immatérielle 1966

Editor: Here we have Camille Bryen's "Mesure immatérielle" from 1966, a matter painting with gestures, born from Art Informel, diving into pure abstraction. There's almost a muted, dreamy quality to it, like looking at a hazy memory. What strikes you most when you look at this? Curator: Well, isn't it fascinating? To me, it feels like peering into a disassembled dreamscape, you know? It's almost as if Bryen captured fleeting thoughts, little whispers of colour and texture, then scattered them across the canvas like fallen leaves. Do you get a sense of the artist’s hand, almost a frantic energy trying to grasp the intangible? Editor: Yes, I see what you mean! It’s not exactly chaotic, but there’s a sense of searching for something, like trying to piece together a puzzle with no edges. Does the title – "Immaterial Measure" – give you any clues? Curator: Absolutely! I think he is daring us to measure the unmeasurable, to give form to what's essentially formless. It is that very tension that gives it a beautiful energy, isn't it? Think of music; we feel it, it moves us, but can we truly measure its impact, its worth? I see this as Bryen's attempt to paint that feeling. He throws conventions out the window. Do you feel that too? Editor: I hadn't thought about music in that way in the context of this work, but it makes sense! The idea of an immaterial measure becoming the subject matter of painting feels very freeing. Thanks! Curator: And thank you! Now I'm seeing this piece with a newfound appreciation for the spaces *between* the forms, the silence between the notes, if you will. A little chaotic poem that makes a grand point on the impossibility of taming life through measures.